


I'd be lying if i said i forgived you but i'd do anything to see you again

by MrDuNord



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/F, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26414299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrDuNord/pseuds/MrDuNord
Summary: Kyoko game ends herself kirisaba edition. Also the naegami is like the background but they have like a little moment in the end.
Relationships: Ikusaba Mukuro/Kirigiri Kyoko, Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya
Kudos: 27





	I'd be lying if i said i forgived you but i'd do anything to see you again

**Author's Note:**

> alcohol, smoking, cutting, and suicide tw

To whomever, it may concern,  
Every day I get tormented more and more by the memories that come back to me. At first, it was as I expected it to be, memories of father, grandfather, and cases that I'd investigated. Then the ones from hope peak started to become clear, unraveling my relationships with my classmates, my dead classmates. Each one stabbed grief and guilt into my heart as they ran back the ways my friends were murdered. The evenings I'd spent gambling with Celeste bantering back and forth, they were the first to come back, she was my best friend, each memory stabbing a new hole in my heart as I lay in my bed petrified in grief. That was the beginning of the nights I’d spent drinking, it started small of course, a shot of whiskey, to stop the guilt from eating me for a moment so I could get to sleep. However drinking brought back the days spent with Sayaka and Makoto, them dragging me around to go shopping, getting ice cream, and whatever activity they thought would help me relax that day, the grief ate me more, and the more it ate at me the more I drank, A fourth person was usually there with us, but no matter how hard I concentrated I could not recall a face, their voice was always distorted and unclear. It ate at me daily, I guess Junko didn’t want me to remember them. It didn’t burden me with more guilt and grief so at first, I let it be.   
I tried asking Makoto if he remembered, he forced a smile. He looked at me, his eyes glazed over in pity,” You should figure that out on your own, you’ll come to terms with it better than if I just told you.” It made me think back to the first death out of our friends, Sayaka, I miss her a lot more than I thought I thought I would. Hell, sometimes I even miss Hifumi. Celeste and his antics certainly proved entertaining. I miss all my classmates, I suppose living with people for 2 years will do that.  
Still, his words left a bitter taste in my mouth, even if I had said quite a similar thing to him before, I wonder if that makes me a hypocrite. The need to find out who it was becomes stronger after that, maybe if I find out who it was I’d be released of some of the guilt, but maybe forgetting would do the same and one of those seemed far easier. So I drank more hoping to forget the voice, and soon a few shots a day became a whole bottle. Then the memories came a lot more frequently, the memories at Makoto’s house with Sayaka, Celestia, Byakuya, and the one I can not recall. I get this feeling we were very close, though could not tell if we were friends or more. From the way others spoke I assume we were probably dating, it surprises me though each time their name was spoken it was just as distorted as their voice. I wonder why Junko went this far, perhaps another way to bring despair from beyond the grave, perhaps to torment me, maybe she just hated me and wanted me to suffer. I’m sad to say it's been working. Each memory that came back after this they were always there or close by and I could always hear that voice. So I started smoking, anything to help me forget, to stop hearing it, anything to dull the ache in my heart and the pain that arose in my heart. Something to calm me down after days I spent getting worked up about the unidentified person and the stress of the despaired world. Sometimes I got the naive hope that maybe the smoke would form the face of that mysterious individual and I'd finally be able to connect the dots that seemed miles away.  
Every time I try to think they always come to the forefront of my mind and I can't ever seem to focus. Then each memory that came back was just them, us. Their hands-on my body, my lips on theirs, words that had comforted me and consoled me that I could not hear, hands held tightly in my own that I could not identify. Each memory was just them. It ate at me, it soon devoured me whole. Then it turned to a bottle of whiskey a day, going through 2 packs of cigarettes a week. I soon stopped eating hoping it would see how hollow I already was and let me be. Makoto was always trying to get my mind off it, trying to help me, bringing me food, trying to get me to stop smoking and drinking. He could never understand though, he never will understand. Loving someone and then forgetting everything about them, knowing that they were taken to soon. He still has togami, and for that, I will envy him. I have no idea why I loved this figure or even what they meant to me. I finally got clarity after a trip to our living hell that was Hope's Peak was made to give proper funerals to our dead friends, Makoto handed me a small notebook, he said it will clear things up for me and that he was sorry. That he wanted to help me so if I wanted to talk about anything to come to him. It seems now every time he looks at me it's only pity and sadness, is it that bad. Were they that bad? The second I opened the notebook it all clicked. Mukuro Ikusaba, a name written with such terrible penmanship, Familiar penmanship. Flipping through the pages I saw entries about spy work for Junko, a page of information on each of our classmates, pictures of our classmates, our friends, of me, of us, were tapped in between pages. Detailed entries of what she did that day were written on the back. Most of the pages were about me or addressed to me. Love letters, detailed entries of dates we went on, photos of us together on said dates, love poems. The last few pages were recalling the beginning of the killing game, Junko's reason for doing it, Mukuro’s discomfort in having to pretend to be her sister. Before those, however, laid a note addressed to me. Tears stained this page and smudged the words but it was still legible

My dearest, Kyoko,

I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I still love you I always will, I never loved anyone the way I loved you. I want to thank you for showing me these feelings and showing me I'm more than just some soldier, but you knew when it would come to it I would choose Junko over you, so thank you for staying around as long as you. Sorry for the dates I had rain check cause Junko needed me, I'm sorry for being a shit girlfriend, But still know that I loved you. So because I love you, I'll make sure you never remember me. You don't need to be burdened by the memory of my betrayal, the memory of my disappointing existence. I know you’ll survive this so, sorry for the state of the world. I know we talked about our plans for our lives if we ever got to leave, so I want to say sorry for leading you that I was ever gonna be there with you. I wish I could be. I want nothing more than to be with you forever. To wake up every day with you in my arms and to run my hands through your hair to wake you up. I’m going to miss you, I know Junko won’t let me live through this so this is my final goodbye to you. Like me, as your Mukuro and not Junko's puppet. I love you and I am going to miss you, I will love you to my final moments and even thereafter. As long as I exist dead or alive I will love you. So, if there is an afterlife I will wait for you there, for you to deliver your judgment on to me, if a god condemns me to heaven but you're inclined to believe I belong in hell then I will gladly throw myself in those burning pits for the sake of your satisfaction in seeing me suffer.  
-Mukuro Ikusaba 

It was that letter that set me off, every memory finally clicking and coming together. Mukuro's face in each memory became apparent, her voice finally clear. That's when the cutting started I guess. I’d much rather feel physical pain than the emotional torment of having to relive every date but knowing in the end she would betray me and assist in the murdering of our friends. Her friends. Makoto tried his best to help me through it, he’s just kind like that but at this point I wonder if I even deserve his kindness, feeling more a burden on him then his friend... Each Memory of her I recalled the more my brain reminded her death, the spears piercing her body over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. I would spend days stuck in my bed hoping that a spear would pierce my heart so that this pain would cease. Ignoring Makoto when he came knocking. I guess in the end this is my fault for not noticing what she and Junko were up to. I guess I'd gone soft, I trusted her, but no matter how many times I told myself she hurt me and betrayed my trust, a large part of me just wishes she was here. I miss her touch, I miss the way she’d whisper in my ear, the way she always had a snarky comment about my cases when I recounted them to her, I just miss her. That part kept growing, so I drank more, I smoked more, I cut more. Just more and more and more, hoping to numb everything I was feeling. I don’t want to feel anymore, I just want to be with her again. I'd be lying if I said I forgave her but I'd do anything to see her again. I guess, to whoever finds me first I'm sorry, my will is in my desk drawer so I guess this is goodbye. I got someone who needs to start explaining. I'll tell everyone you all said hello when I see them again, and to Makoto, I am so sorry, I just can’t handle being here anymore.  
Goodbye,  
Kyoko Kirigiri

That was the letter Makoto and Byakuya found taped to her bathroom as they went to check on Kyoko as Makoto does daily, her room was left tidy as if she were expecting someone. Makoto couldn’t stomach opening the bathroom door, so Byakuya turned the handle and opened it so they could look in together. Makoto dropped to his knees at the scene, the letter still clutched in his hand. Togami’s suspensions were confirmed. Kyoko’s dead body laid propped against the wall. Blood dripped from her mouth and ran down her chin. A small smile sat on her lips, her eyes left with a look of contentedness. A bottle of what he assumed to be arsenic or some sort of poison laid in her hands that were folded in her lap. She was dressed in her usual dark purple leather dress shoes, black dress slack, a white button-up dress shirt, and a dark purple vest that matched her leather jacket. A small drop of blood from her mouth stained her white shirt. Byayuka walked in and shut the door after him, not wanting Makoto to see another of their close friends died in the bathroom. He went over and crouched down beside her and put two fingers to her wrist trying to find a pulse only to be greeted by the chills of her ice-cold skin. She’d probably been dead since early last night, he concluded. Leaving the bathroom to inform Makoto of their friend's expiration. Only to find the boy had fallen to his knees and was sobbing out choked apologizes. Not saying a word Togami got on his knees next to him and wrapped his arms around him. Rubbing his back and combing his hand through his hair, muttering words of comfort and reassurance.


End file.
